One Thing
by MistressAli
Summary: Sally and Snively meet by a stream and stuff happens. Oh yeah. SatAMish setting. Obviously.


One Thing

By MistressAli

A/N: I've been trying to get back into writing again. Been blocked for a long while. So, I wrote up this little thing with Sally and Snively. It's not a whole story or anything, just a little 'vignette' as I like to call such things.

It's set somewhat in my 'LifeBlood of Mobius' series, but you don't have to read any of that to read this. I might put it in the series...maybe. I dunno.

Anyway, all you need to know is Robotnik is dead by Snively's doing and he now rules Robotropolis. That's really about it. And that's not even that important to know.

On with the pointlessness!

* * *

"One Thing"

When he stepped in close, she didn't step back. Sally didn't know why. When he leaned in closer, she didn't turn her head. She didn't welcome his touch but she didn't pull back. He tilted his head, he locked his lips to hers.

She didn't pull back. And she didn't know why.

--

She came to the outskirts of the city more often than she would admit, more often than she even wanted. A simple stroll to clear her head would eventually turn into a journey there yet again. She wasn't sure why she went. Just to stare and wonder?

Sometimes, she thought of going in and offering peace again. Sometimes…well, 'never', she'd prefer to say, she considered offering surrender. But no. She couldn't stand to imagine herself, pathetic and pleading, while he gloated.

She was sure HE imagined it. He liked to indulge in those dark hurtful things, whether the thought of harming others or the pain within himself. He was bleeding those twisted fetishes onto her. But there was only one person she wanted to suffer. At least she was selective! She had a good reason behind her hate.

She only laid blame where blame was due.

--

Sally didn't pull away. She didn't know why. It was unpleasant, but she didn't pull back. Maybe she was a liar then, maybe she really enjoyed it.

But…his lips were soft, his touch was gentle, in some strange way, she could close her eyes and make believe it was Sonic. But no. Sonic didn't have that neediness in his mouth, that sense of desperation.

It would've been easy to step back and evade his touch, but she didn't. She stayed passive in his arms. At least, she thought, I'm not tempted to give back. Just to...give up.

--

An early snowfall threatened to mar the day. Nevertheless, sunlight came from some mysterious gap in the clouds that she could not see. The landscape around her was bright despite the looming puffs of gray. It was surreal, like walking through an artist's work, where colors and light can be invented to their desires.

She felt the familiar prickling of disgust as she viewed the horizon; the city's highest spires and the hideous Command Center were cutting their way through the sky. That horizon used to be celebrated by travelers. It meant they were nearly to Mobotropolis, the pristine capitol of the Acorn Kingdom. Now it was feared and hated. She wondered if it would ever lose the stigma Robotnik had brought upon it.

She was nearing the wasteland that divided her lands from Robotnik's. There was one last beautiful spot before the dust and metal and filth began. A small stream ran through here merrily, and it even boasted grass and flowers around it, like it was defying the decay. It was the final border the forest had erected to keep the wasteland at bay.

She thought maybe she'd stay here awhile. Forget going further towards the city. It wasn't healthy, neither physically, with all that smog, and certainly not mentally. She thought about the place too much as it was, but that was her job. She and her group, she was sure they'd be the ones to take Robotropolis down. They had lived there once…they had the drive to reclaim it.

--

He moved his mouth away, but not his hands from about her. He stared into her eyes, as deep as he could reach. Her eyes were infinity too, just as bottomless as his. He couldn't see everything there, including what he pondered: Why did you give in? Because she hadn't owed him, and he knew it.

She could search her own eyes in a mirror, and know how to unlock some of their secret knowledge, but she knew she could stare all day and never have the answer to that one. So she shrugged.

--

She decided she wouldn't be staying at the stream. There was someone there, someone she thought of often…and hated. It would be easy to kill him, well, if she could rid him of his gun, anyway, and if she did succeed...it would end the war. Just like that. It seemed a simple thing...but it wasn't. Killing broached her boundaries of morality.

She'd be killing herself if she went through with it. The guilt would slay her – no matter how deserving of it her victim had been.

She wondered what he was doing out here, so far away from the safety of his city. Could he possibly find the stream a place of beauty as well? Maybe he was just sick of looking at steel plating all the time. He was even dressed in something other than the gray uniform he usually wore; just a simple white t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

She took a step backwards, hoping to ease back into the trees before he noticed her; he was sitting on one of the large rocks and twirling a thistle about by the stem. He must've heard her, quiet as she was, or perhaps sensed her presence. His eyes lifted and locked on her.

"Lovely day, isn't it, Sally?" he greeted, his lip curling into its typical sneer.

She sighed. "It was."

"Aw…" his lip pouted now, another typical look. "Don't hurt my feelings like that…"

She shook her head and stepped backwards. "It was great talking to you, but I'll be leaving now."

He dropped the thistle and stood up. "Don't go yet. Stay."

"Why?"

"I don't know. To talk." A smile, slightly mocking, curved his lips. "We never get enough alone time, you and I."

It was a weird statement, and yet, she knew that she and him...somehow, had always had some connection, if only by their similar situations. Oh no, she knew they were night and day, but she led the straggling Freedom Fighters to the best of her abilities, and to her internal stress and worry, and he had run the city nearly single-handedly, fraught with constant abuse and fear. They were similar in their dedications to their cause, even though their reasons were far different.

And besides, she knew he'd always had a thing for her. She saw it in his eyes whenever they spoke…the way his condescension seemed merely a front. It wasn't real the way it was with the others. He admired her. He...she didn't want to imagine his feelings running any deeper than admiration. It made her insides squirm in discomfort.

She approached the stream. "Fine. For a minute, I guess." She sat down on another rock and stared at him over the water. "What exactly do you have in mind for conversation, Snively?"

"I don't know," he said, and laughed. "How about the weather?"

"Why don't you surrender?"

He rolled his eyes, splashing a hand into the water. "I'd rather not talk about 'business' right now."

She put her head into her hand, looking down at the ripples he'd caused. "What else is there to talk about? We aren't friends," her tone was biting. "We aren't even friendly."

Another of those mocking smiles crossed his face. "That's unfortunate. We should be."

"I don't think so, Snively. I won't be friends with a murderer."

"Ouch," he said, still smiling. "But we have that in common too, don't we?"

"No." She got up. She was leaving.

"Wait." He splashed across the stream, wetting the bottom of his jeans. "Don't go yet."

She sighed, exasperated. "And why not? I don't have anything to say to you that I haven't already said. I don't –like- you, if you haven't realized that by now."

"No, of course not." He stopped smiling. "But maybe you'd enjoy some in-depth conversation for a change. We can talk…as…neutrals."

She didn't believe him. He always had a motive, some kind of sneaky agenda. He could not be trusted. She didn't trust him, of course. But maybe…

Maybe she could use this to her advantage. Garner information about him she didn't know…though she believed she knew pretty much all there was to know about a sick soul like he.

"What makes you think I don't get in-depth conversations?"

"Oh please." He rolled his eyes. "The hedgehog? Depth?"

"He has depth."

"Ha. A short dive to the bottom."

Her anger flared. "Oh. And here I thought you were an advocate for looking below the surface. So all the 'I'm such a victim underneath it all' is bullshit. Not surprising."

He wasn't wounded, or pissed, as she'd hoped he'd be. His eyes were amused. "Oh, I have looked below his surface, Sally, and I tell you, there's not much there but dumb dull rocks."

She shook her head. "This was a bad idea. I'm leaving."

This time he didn't protest, but he did grab her arm. She recoiled sharply at his touch, trying to wrench away. "Let go!" Her fist clenched.

He released her, taking a step back. He was a wimp; she knew he wasn't going to fight her. Her eyes flitted to his belt. Not unless he had that gun in his hand.

"Whatever you want," she snarled, "why don't you say it and get it over with? I don't have time for your stupid games. There's other people I'd much rather be spending time with."

"Then why are you here?" He jerked his head towards the city. "Why are you here, Sally? Do you like looking at that? Indulging in it?" He uttered something she'd once said to him. "Do you like to wallow in your misery too?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it.

He folded his arms across his skinny chest, looking smug.

"Maybe," she said, in a near whisper. "But not the way –you- do. I think...about the way I can change MY misery. What else I can do... To CHANGE it. I don't just accept it like you do." And here she raised her hand and jabbed two fingers into his chest, to drive her point home. It was a starling, profane thing when they touched. She knew he would feel her words even deeper for it.

"I changed at least –one- thing in my life." He looked back at the city with a smirk, but when he looked back, she saw his eyes were troubled, haunted. "No more Robotnik, eh?"

"Yet you still live in his world. You still carry his pathetic torch, and you still see him, don't you? You can't let it go."

"And do you think, after the war is over, that you'll let it go? Will your life be roses and sunshine?" He laughed, sickening in its mockery. "The memories of the last decade will just poof out of existence." He snapped his fingers.

She would be haunted, yes, until she slipped out of this world. The scars of war would never disappear. His words were valid, but damned if she would admit it. "At least I won't punish other people for it."

His eyes twinkled, mean-spirited. "It'll hurt –someone-. It always does."

She stared hard at him. She hated him, yes, but he was intelligent, equal to her (or better) in that regard. She admired intelligence. But his logic was poor. It was twisted and selfish.

"Not the way you hurt people," she finally said. "Not just to save my ass, or get rid of my anger, or whatever pathetic reason you use."

"You'd be surprised at what pain will make you do, Princess. It's amazing to see how 'pathetic' it can make you."

"You had a chance to leave. Lots of them."

"Yes, yes." He seemed suddenly impatient. "I thought we weren't going to talk about business. Neutrals, and all."

"Wouldn't be much of a conversation if we didn't."

"Sally," he said, and his voice was earnest, his expression so fixated on her, that she was a little taken aback. She'd always gotten a chill from his eyes; they were unnaturally cold and too pale for her liking. "Tell me…what's something you've always wanted to do to me?"

"Defeat you."

He chuckled. "Within reason."

"Reason of what?"

"In reason of...us standing here. In reason of this moment."

She scrutinized him…his bald head, the sneer that always hid in his lips, his skinny form. She was always amazed that someone as harmless-looking as Snively, cute in some bizarre way with those large eyes and bony shoulders, could be such a threat. That outwardly he could reflect innocence with the greatest of ease, while within he harbored the darkest hatreds, the most indiscriminate vengeance, and the joy for things beautiful and hopeful dying.

"I don't know, Snively," she said. "But sometimes, I really want to punch your lights out."

"A girl after my Uncle's heart," he grinned, then tilted his head. "All right, Princess." He spread out his arms. "Go for it."

She frowned. "I'm not going to punch you."

"Why not? You said you've always wanted to."

"Because I'm not like that. And especially not after you compared me to Robotnik." She shook her head fiercely, her auburn hair tossing.

"It was just a joke." He was still grinning. "Come now, Princess, give it your best shot. Believe me, I've taken much worse than you can dish out."

"I said no."

"I won't hold it against you, Princess. I want to see what you're capable of. What kind of power resides in that..." He was looking her up and down, something worse than mockery tinting his smile now, "body..."

She was going to regret this, she knew, because he had some sinister motive behind this. Maybe he wanted to prove some stupid point that was going to doubtlessly piss her off in its lack of truth. 'Oh you're just like my Uncle,' or some swill. But for some reason, she couldn't resist. He was practically begging her to do it, and well, she –had- always wanted to...so why not.

So, she drew her lips into a grim line, clenched her fist until the knuckles were hard tightened bumps, and swung a blow to his left cheek. She didn't play around. Her body weight was thrown into it, her leg lifting off the ground. Snively was knocked to the grass with a sputtered grunt. He sat there, his eyes a bit hazy, clearly dazed from the impact.

Despite herself, she found herself smiling. Her hand ached. But she –had- enjoyed that, almost sickeningly so. There was something satisfying about finally getting to channel some of her anger and hate for this man into a physical blow and …

'or get rid of my anger, or whatever pathetic reason you use…'

Hell, hadn't she just said minutes ago? Now she was contradicting it. She'd been right. She'd fallen right into his stupid trap. Now he was going to get up and laugh at her, and tell her how hypocritical she was, not much better than him, was she, oh esteemed Princess?

He rubbed his cheek. A bruise was rising; it would be dark against his skin when it fully bloomed. "Didn't think a little girl like you would pack such a punch."

"You enjoyed that, huh?" She curled her lip.

"Maybe…" He smirked, and then winced, putting his hand to the bruise again. "Maybe I miss it, being the sick little freak I am."

"Wouldn't surprise me."

He pushed himself back to his feet, and came close to her, uncomfortably close. "Now it's my turn, Sally."

She didn't like the sound of that. "Your turn to what? Hit me?"

"No…" he ran one hand down his chest, smoothing out his disheveled shirt. His skin was so pale it nearly matched the shirt's white hue. "To do something I've always wanted to do. Within reason."

"Oh Mobius," she groaned, and hunched her shoulders defensively. She didn't want to do this. It's not like they'd written a stinking contract! "I think it's time I left now."

She moved backwards, distancing herself from him. He looked vastly disappointed, pouting, frowning. "Not fair, Sally."

"So what?" She voiced her thoughts. "I don't owe you anything."

"It's not about that…it's about…trust. I trusted you to do what you wanted, but nothing more…and I hope you'll trust me to do just one thing…but nothing that pushes the boundaries. We might hate each other, Princess, but…we understand each other. We KNOW each other."

She huffed, crossing her arms across her bosom. "I KNOW you, alright, Snively, which is precisely WHY I don't trust you. You have this crazy idea that we have some...some connection?" She laughed harshly. "Come off it. I don't think about you constantly, you aren't in my damn dreams. Your infatuation is yours alone!" How easily lies spilled off angry, indignant lips. But they weren't all lies. Half-truths, perhaps.

He was silent throughout her tirade. He kept silent even after she'd gotten her breath back from the furious words expelled. She gave a cry of disgust, amazed at his audacity to ask ANYTHING of her, and turned her back on him. The forest beckoned. She wanted the company of the trees.

"One thing, Sally."

His voice was quiet. It wasn't sneering, or mocking, or pleading, whining. It was expectant. She cringed despite her anger. She had given in to her temptation. Even though he'd initiated it; he'd started the whole thing. She HAD surrendered herself to it. And now she was going to surrender to something else...or was it HE that was surrendering? Right now, he was at her mercy, because they both knew she could walk away, and be completely justified doing so.

She didn't know why she turned back, or why she inclined her head at him. Why she opened her mouth and gave him permission. "All right, then. One thing, and it had better be within reason, buddy."

"Of course, Princess," he said.

She hoped this wasn't going to result in her ending up with a laser hole in her head. She realized it was quite stupid to assume she and Snively had the same idea of what was 'within reason.' After all, he thought torturing, enslaving and killing people were perfectly fine means to his ends.

"Don't worry," he rasped, as if reading her mind. "I don't want you dead."

He was getting close, very close, but she didn't step back, nor did she flinch. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of showing fear, or discomfort. He got off on those things. He LIKED being feared.

She kept her eyes on his, because she knew she could stop him with a look. Her eyes could harden into steel daggers, and they could stab just as grievously. She had silenced him, and others, with just a glance before.

Now every detail of his eyes were coming into focus. He had thick eyelashes, she noticed, a shade of dark brown. This close up, his corneas were still disturbing, but in a different way – vivid, beautiful. Patches of winter sky spangled with snowflakes.

He slid one hand through the soft thick hair at the back of her neck, sliding it up through the red waves and left it there, cradling her skull. She didn't move. She didn't think she was breathing, even. If he put his hands anywhere else though, she swore her boot would flatten his balls into pancakes. His other hand went to her cheek, cupping there, and then he leaned in close. Like a sudden epiphany, she knew what he was going to do, though it seemed stupid to be so enlightened. It was obvious.

What he'd always wanted to do, more than killing her, was to have something he'd never otherwise have. He could always kill – he'd had that sin hanging over his head for a long time now. He could always maim, and hurt, and lie...but this? He could never have this. Unless by rape - but now she was giving it to him willingly.

And she didn't pull back, as he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her.

It seemed wrong, to be giving her enemy something he'd desired for so long. But he was thrown upon her mercy, his hand tightening in her hair, his mouth moving – she could feel his lips, and his body, trembling. She would never be indebted to him for delivering violence, but HE…he would be indebted to her forever, for this.

She wondered why he would give himself up like that.

So finally, after a few centuries, he finally parted his lips from hers (it had only been a minute, she tried to reason) and stepped back. He was smiling softly, and his cheeks had flushed a pleasant pink. It was unsettling to see him with color in his skin. It made him warm-blooded. It made him...alive. She hated him easier when he was dead and cold, unfeeling and disdaining of life as corpses were.

"So you enjoyed –that-, eh?" She repeated her earlier question. He nodded, only slightly, looking as if he'd rather not talk and just simply relish the moment.

She wasn't –that- giving. "I hope you remember that for a long time, then, Snively, because you aren't EVER going to have anything like that in your life…ever again."

"I know," he said. "But don't think I feel…" He shrugged. "My greatest accomplishment is destroying goodness, even in my own life. Don't think it makes you safe."

"So where does this leave us?"

"I don't know. Where do you think it should leave us?"

"The same place we were."

"Maybe."

"Back to our pointless battles," she said, and sighed. "I hope someday, you'll have the decency to surrender, Snively. You don't have to die over this."

He shrugged again.

"Unless you want to, I guess."

He smiled again, and it had some of that old wickedness, that sneering edge to it. It put her at ease. Things were back to normal. "I knew you cared, Princess."

"Yeah right." She crossed her arms over her chest.

The tree leaves rustled, and the gust of wind brought a slight hint of the oily, smoky smell that was Robotropolis. It reminded her of everything. Where she was, who she was, who he was. It wasn't like she'd forgotten. She had just risen from the dreamy depths of sleep and back into reality.

He was back, totally, to the pompous, baleful, -evil- creature she hated. She felt her righteous contempt flaring up. She had to leave now, or else her anger would eat at her for the rest of the day.

"Enjoy yourself - by yourself," she said. "This conversation is over."

"Back to business, then," he mummered, and retreated back over the stream, and back to the rock, like he'd been there the entire time. She could imagine she was easing back into the woods, and he'd never seen her.

So she did, she went back to her home and did not think of it again, or at least, she told herself she did not think of it. She banished it to the place in memory that held pointless dreams and half-finished thoughts. Maybe it would be useful someday.

She doubted it.

Snively thought of it, day and night, and day again, and he wondered if it were possible for him to ever think of her as a neutral again,

Or an enemy.

But he'd probably end up killing her anyway, or die trying, and he was sure the latter was more likely. It didn't matter much.

That was just the way things worked here on Mobius, in his dead Uncle's realm, and not all the kisses in the world would change that.

------


End file.
